Fragments of Forever
by Snowfilly
Summary: A collection of 15 unrelated drabbles based on the album 'The Libertines.' House and Wilson based, all genres, slash and gen. Chapter 15, What Became of the Likely Lads. Because, sometimes, a lifetime isn't long enough to be together. Complete.
1. Can't Stand Me Now

What Became of the Likely Lads

Disclaimer – All characters settings etc are property of Fox; I have made no money from their use. Song titles belong to Carl Barat, Pete Doherty.

Author's Note – These drabbles are a response to a challenge – Take your favourite album, write down the song titles and then a drabble based on each one. So, 'The Libertines' by The Libertines and 15 drabbles to come, all unrelated. Specific details will be posted for each one. Mainly House / Wilson friendship, I think.

Can't Stand Me Now

House shuffled onto his balcony. Wilson followed him; he retreated inside.

'House!'

No reply except rain. House hadn't spoken to him since detox.

He did answer the phone, though.

'It's Wilson. I got tickets for a monster truck rally. Wanna come?'

'No.'

'Come down to the canteen, get lunch.'

'No.'

'Why?'

'You don't want to go anywhere with me. You hate me.'

Wilson heard a crash – House throwing something – and then, his hitching voice again. 'I hate me.'

The man who was once his best friend hung up. Wilson hoped this wasn't the ending; that he hadn't torn everything apart.


	2. Music When The Lights Go Out

Music When the Lights Go Out

5th Song on the album, a love song that would break your heart. Therefore, a love story. House / Wilson.

'How will you remember House?' someone enquired.

Wilson shook his head. _Sat in the dark room, playing that piano, divorced from the pain. Knowing I was there and playing so I could watch him. Losing himself in the notes he played from memory or imagination._

Their life left him dizzy. He loved, distrusted, almost feared House but when the bedroom lights were out, leaving only the gleam of blue eyes, or when House's damaged spirit had flown with his music, he'd flown as well. With genius and love, House had changed his life.

'We thought we'd fly forever,' he wept.


	3. The Man Who Would Be King

The Man Who Would Be King

4th song on the album, noted for chorus line of la la la la; title taken from the Kipling short story. Set – Pre show; House shows off his new ducklings.

'What you reckon to them?' House enquired.

'Hmmm. Pretty, too caring, too like you.'

'Blonde. Hooker. Car thief, you mean.'

'Have they got names, House?' Wilson made a speculative grab for the files; was foiled by House's cane.

'Not gonna learn names 'til I'm sure they'll last long enough to make it worthwhile.'

'Unlike Cuddy's terrified assistants?'

'Exactly.' House shuffled the files together, handed them over. 'Here. See if you can pick out which of 'em's gonna be the best diagnostician since me.'

'You got a favourite, then?'

'Oh, yeah. And I would say only one thing to him: Wombat!'


	4. The Saga

The Saga

12th Song, about stories and friendships. Well, this was easy enough.

He loved watching House work.

Oncology was structured, a ballet of treatment. House's department was frantic freestyle.

'Foreman, increase dosage!'

'Okay...She's crashing!'

'Chase, sort it. C'mon, Wombat, move!'

'Can I...'

'No, Cameron. It's lupus. _Know_ it.'

He studied House, hurrying around his patient. Ducklings and him in harmony, except...

'Chase, is that eau de nurse you're wearing? ... Hell, she should be improving now.' And in the midst of it, he waved to Wilson.

It wasn't lupus. She should have died.

House saved her anyway.

Sagas like that made him Wilson's hero. It was tiny gestures of friendship that kept him there.


	5. What Katie Did

What Katie Did

10th song, about a pretty girl who left a bloke, who muses at length about how fragile life is and how cruel the world can be.

Thanks for the reviews – it's unlikely I'll expand these as the whole point is teaching myself to write short. But... I may do.

'Now what?' House's cane poked Wilson in the kidneys.

He swallowed, hands twitching as he resisted wiping his eyes. House couldn't cope with tears.

'Hey, move over.'

He shuffled along so House could climb the balcony wall.

'What's wrong?'

'Katie died.'

'She the one you had in all year?'

'I c-couldn't s-save her.'

'She had her 18th cos of you.'

'In fucking hospital,' and Wilson couldn't stop the angry tears. 'S-she was a sweet girl.'

'Here.' House pushed something into his hands – a lollipop- awkwardly squeezed his shoulder. 'It's a cruel world, remember? And you made it a bit better.'


	6. Narcissist

Narcissist

6th track, the only real bit of filler on the album. Only the title links this in.

'What you doing? It's five AM.'

'What's it sound like? Blow drying my hair.'

He sighed and listened to the noise of his flatmate getting ready. Either he was very early for work or very late in from wherever he'd been.

'How long does it take to do your hair?'

'Less time than it'd take you to diagnosis your patients.'

'What about the neighbours?'

'They're aseep.'

'So should I be.'

'My hair is important.'

'Narcissist.'

'Twerp.' House, his hair still fluffy from the blow drying, limped over to Wilson's couch and sat down. 'Just wanted to try it your way.'


	7. Last Post on the Bugle

Last Post on the Bugle

2nd track. Rather an odd little one, with military themes. Coupled with Wilson's background and the Last Post being a lament for the dead, I came up with this. Strong friendship, set away from the show. WARNING for highly disturbing theme.

'Wilson, you don't have to do this.'

'He was my grandfather.'

'So? He's dead.'

'He died here.' The wind, cold like death, made Wilson tremble.

House put an arm around him, letting the strong comfort of his body stand for what he couldn't say.

'I could've died here.'

'Not if I was around,' House vowed.

They'd reached the main gates. Wilson felt the crashing burden of his heritage as a bugler played the Last Post.

'I need to do this...'

'But?'

'Don't think I can.'

'You're Wilson. You can do anything.' Arm firmly around his friend, House limped into Auschwitz.


	8. The Tomblands

The Tomblands

11th track. A wry look at life on a rundown estate, where everyone is on the dole and no honest work is ever done. Totally unlike House, then... Fits in with the show pretty much anywhere.

'You two!'

House didn't look back. Wilson froze.

'Where you going?'

'Taking House home – he isn't well,' Wilson replied.

Cuddy advanced. 'He was well enough to be teaching your kids poker.'

House faked a cough.

'He's got a fever.'

'He hid by the ovens.'

'Please?' Wilson smiled.

----

'House, you owe me. Big time.'

'We've been so overworked. Tickets safe?'

'Yeah.' Wilson wondered too late if Cuddy could hear the spluttering roar of House's bike. 'House, you know you've never done an honest day's work in your life, don't you?'

'Yes. And Cuddy knows. And you. But you're still my friend.'


	9. France

France

A secret track at the end of the album; Carl's acoustic love song to a brown eyed girl who went to France and left him entranced. About love never realised. Slashy.

He hated Wilson leaving.

What if something happened; if he found a lover and never came back? If he did so well at the conference that they hired him?

He choked as he watched the plane go.

No-one to discuss cases with. No-one to share food with, stop him shouting at his ducklings or to keep him safe.

The night before Wilson was due back, he smoked a joint. Drunk. Fell into bed and the darkness.

Woke from dreaming of Wilson's eyes, that unique shade of brown. Closed his blue eyes in horror.

Another thing never to tell his friend.

A/N – Check out Devour's fic, she's used a different album but doing one-shots, rather than drabbles.


	10. Campaign of Hate

Campaign of Hate

9th track, about a much nastier hate campaign than shown here – gang warfare and the refrain of 'We'll die in the class we were born.' Why would House try and drive anyone out of PPTH?

Cuddy found them in Wilson's office. Laughing. 'House!'

He slunk over, Wilson shadowing.

'What've you done to my assistant?'

'Nothing.'

'What about the previous one?'

'Brought her dead flowers.'

'Sabotaged her chair,' Wilson commented.

'Damaged her car.'

'And the blonde one?'

House smirked. 'Wrote letters. Stole her lunch. Blackmailed her.'

'Why?'

'Blonde one hated Jimmy. Previous one flirted with him.'

'The one crying in my office?'

'Bit of both.'

'There's no need for a hate campaign against my staff.'

House took Wilson's hand. 'Yes, there is.'

'Had to tell her, didn't you?'

He kissed Wilson's cheek. 'Yes.'

'House!'

'Greg!'

'What?'

Devour's excellent fic, based on the same challenge is called The Last Goodnight . FFnet eat the link in the previous chapter.


	11. The Ha Ha Wall

The Ha Ha Wall

7th song. About being lost and scared and hoping that someone, anyone, will listen. Set season 2 sometime.

Warning – dark themes. This chapter only, M rated.

He emptied his stomach before taking the pills. Knowing House hated vomit, he cleaned up.

The pills choked him.

He paged House.

There was nowhere to go but here. No home. Just the hospital full of people he couldn't save.

He'd saved lives.

House had saved more.

The other pills gagged him.

House never listened to him, hadn't even guessed... Wouldn't come.

His couch smelt of safety.

House's steps. He was trying to run.

'Wilson?...Jimmy, you fucking moron. You stopped the antidepressants, didn't you?'

House called 911.

Fingers brushed his. Everything would be alright. House had listened to his call.

A/N – The title just impossible to work with. The relevant lyric was 'I'm empty, lost, alone / Won't you heed my call?'

Obviously, Wilson's thoughts are a little screwed in this. I wanted it to seem slightly incoherent.


	12. Road to Ruin

Road to Ruin

13th track. About a friendship on a downward slide, which I thought was too depressing. So, House and his bike. Always good fun.

He was battling paperwork when House arrived.

'What are you after?'

'Hot sex, private jet, no clinic...'

'House, I'm busy. Got anything important to say?'

'Need some cash?'

'Why?' He already had his wallet out.

'Because...'

'Carmen Electra is not naked on my floor! Why?'

'Lost a bet. $50.'

Laughing, Wilson handed it over. 'Who with?'

'Chase.'

He let the silence lengthen; House hated silence.

'My bike versus his car. He won.' House rubbed his hip; admitted 'Actually, I fell.'

'Drag racing at your age really is the road to ruin,' Wilson warned and moved to check his friend over.


	13. Don't Be Shy

Don't Be Shy

4th song on the album, a gorgeous tale about giving into temptation and asking someone you adore to dance or run the risk of 'waking up one day, lost in the last chance saloon.'

A slightly slashy piece, set at a PPTH party.

He'd danced all night. But when the music slowed, it was House he went to. He'd glimpsed House's eyes, shining through the shadows as the lights dimmed. He wondered how House was.

'What you doing?'

'Watching your ducklings dance.'

House glared at Chase and Cameron. 'Huh.' He eyed Wilson. 'You wanna dance?'

'What?'

'Don't be shy. Come on.'

Wilson obeyed. Let House use his body as support.

It wasn't quite dancing. But the older man's almost destroyed talent was evident, and Wilson lost himself in House's strong arms.

'Why?'

House smiled sadly. 'Because no-one else would dance with a cripple.'


	14. Arbeit Macht Frei

Arbeit Macht Frei

8th song, under a minute long. A rant about a soldier who 'fought the Nazis but don't like blacks or queers.'

Arbeit Macht Frei is German, meaning roughly 'Labour liberates' or 'Freedom through work.' It was inscribed above the gates of Dachau. 

I know I said none of these drabbles were related, but I lied. A direct sequel to 'Last Post on the Bugle.'

After Auschwitz, they went to House's hotel room. Turned the lights out.

When Wilson, who'd remained dry-eyed throughout the trip, broke down, it was alright.

When House couldn't bear to listen anymore, that was okay. It wasn't stupid or gay to touch his friend, to hold him close all night.

It wasn't mentioned until the suspension arrived. 

'You gotta treat him, House.'

'No.'

'You're risking your job.'

'So? He's a dickhead with an Arbeit Macht Frei tattoo. Not funny.'

'You treated the mafia guy. What's different with a Nazi wannabe?'

House lifted his head, meet Wilson's eyes. 'My friend. You.'


	15. What Became of the Likely Lads

What Became of the Likely Lads

14th song, last proper track. A consideration of a friendship that broke down; a direct sequel to Can't Stand Me Now. But I couldn't leave House and Wilson's friendship like that. This is what became of them.

They were together. They outlasted marriages, health, jobs. Life.

The dreams they had failed. Wilson never cured cancer; House never run. But they faced age as they'd faced life – together. The arguments, the betrayals, no longer mattered as they fought their war.

Wilson died first.

House took the Vidocin.

Wilson was waiting for him. Saw his friend limp – then run – towards him. A crashing impact as House barrelled into him; laughter as they hugged.

One dream coming true in a lifetime was enough. They had each other; they had forever.

'Hey, Wilson! Shall we go haunt Cameron for a bit?'

A/N - And here we come to the last drabble. Thanks for the support, and I'm pleased to announce that several of these fics will be coming soon in extended versions. 'What Katie Did' is shaping up to be my next fanfic novel. Enjoy. And as Carl and Pete sung 'Never loose your faith in love or music.'


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